


to cut a diamond

by Sugar_and_Salt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, MAMA Powers, Physical Abuse, Supernatural - Freeform, X-EXO Clone Kim Jongin | Kai, alternative universe, off screen though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugar_and_Salt/pseuds/Sugar_and_Salt
Summary: Cats should not be trusted. It was a universal truth. But how much weight could it really have, in a world where nobody is to be trusted, anyway?
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36
Collections: Kaisoo OLAO Chapter Three





	to cut a diamond

**Author's Note:**

> hello!  
> this is a self prompt.  
> i don't have much else to say other than... mind the tags and enjoy?  
> tw: abuse, both physical and emotional, but not in graphic detail  
> stay healthy!

With a split-second of distortion, the world around him ripped and blood-stained walls turned to dirt-stained bricks. There was a violent tug on his already sensitive stomach and with one hand on the wall, fingertips digging into the coarse stone, Jongin bent over last second to avoid vomiting on his own feet.

He didn't have it in himself to be disgusted - _then again,_ he dimly thought as he waited for the next round of retching, _there was apparently not much in him in general._

Vomiting always made him feel so worn out and helpless, and he hated it. Shifting places so suddenly made it impossible to avoid it though.

When his stomach had resigned itself to merely trembling uncomfortably, Jongin stumbled back a few steps, sliding down the wall to rest in a crouching position. The alley reeked, had reeked even before Jongin had decided to empty his stomach, and he really wanted to leave. Just... a minute. He just had to wait for his legs to stop shaking and his teeth to stop chattering, and maybe his own spit could soothe the sour feeling in his throat until then-

"-I _felt_ it. There's a mutt here somewhere," an insistent voice piped up from the main street.

Jongin froze. Police patrols. With a hunting dog. Just what he needed now.

He forced himself to his feet, almost slipping and only barely catching himself. Haphazardly feeling for the package in his pocket, he got ready to shift. There was no time but if he could prepare at least a few more seconds-

Two silhouettes rounded the corner and Jongin saw himself forced to move immediately.

* * *

It was nearly impossible to establish laws in a city reveling in greed and ruthlessness, where people didn't simply acknowledge the blood on their hands, but wore it like a badge. And while the overlap between powerful humans and humans with power was surprisingly small, there was one thing everyone universally agreed on:

Cats were not to be trusted.

Any being straying too far from its original, human shape signalled a danger to others in one way or another, really. In a pool of messed up individuals, they'd be the broken pieces slipping through the cracks and covering the ground, not to be seen from the surface.

That was a very human point of view, of course.

From Kyungsoo's point of view, the messy bulk of humans moving oh so far _above him_ was easily its own biggest threat. Though lounging around the bottom of the city also made it so that the only humans finding their way to him would be the cracked and splintered themselves. It certainly took a lot of despair to overcome the deeply rooted fear of the beings resting in the shadows, eyes blinking and tail twitching.

Still, being one of only a handful of cats residing in the area meant that Kyungsoo got all sorts of visitors climbing down the stairs to his cozy lair, each despaired and tainted in their own right. None of them had ever entered without taking the stairs though.

And while Kyungsoo would be caught dead before admitting it, he did twitch when a young man suddenly slipped into existence out of thin air, collapsing in the corner of his lair.

This was certainly a first.

Mildly annoyed but undeniably intrigued, sat up to peer over the back of his sofa.

The man was currently wheezing and retching, and while his stomach was evidently empty, the scent of bile and blood was already sticking to him.

Unhappily, Kyungsoo scrunched his nose but he waited patiently for the curled up human to calm down. The shaky thing didn't allow himself nearly as much reprive, already looking around with teary eyes that almost immediately locked gazes with Kyungsoo.

Confusion turned to panic the moment his eyes wandered to the two inky black ears peeking out of his hair.

"I'm sorry-" he burst out, swallowing, retching once more - if only due to stress - "I'm leaving. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

The way his bloody fingers kept clawing into the cloths covering his walls betrayed just how good his current chances of leaving were. Kyungsoo watched his pitiful attempts at standing up, and relented with a sigh.

"Look at me," he commanded, not even bothering to get up from where he was comfortably nestled into his favourite blankets.

He watched the man's shoulders draw up, making him look like a scolded dog, but he complied nonetheless.

The light may be dim as ever, but Kyungsoo's eyes had yet to let him down, and he was certain that he would have been able to identify this one even in pitch black darkness.

Just as he'd suspected... it was a boy. A child.

And harming a child wouldn't be right.

So he sat back against the armrest, eyes already back on the book he'd previously been reading.

"I'm not going to do anything," he said, calm and sure. "You can rest here."

He could feel the child staring at him, no doubt wary. Just as they were taught to. Kyungsoo didn't acknowledge him though, turning a page instead. To his right, he _heard_ the boy relax, heard him slump into the corner where his breathing slowly, but surely normalized. Even when he drifted off all-too soon, he never dared moving out of the corner, instead curling up on what might be the only corner of his lair that wasn't covered in various carpets.

By the time Kyungsoo had finally finished his chapter, the child was fast asleep.

He placed the book aside and swung his feet over the sofa to procure a bucket of water from the adjacent, hidden washroom. With a small yawn, he grabbed a clean piece of cloth. Time to clean up. The smell really was awful, after all.

* * *

When Jongin came to, it was to aching limbs, the scent of soap and a warm, wet cloth dabbing away at his cheeks. It was the soap and the other, very unfamiliar scent that alarmed him, reminded him of what he'd done before passing out.

He'd broken into a hybrid's place. Accidentally, but it had happened.  
So far, he'd been fortunate enough to only meet very few non-human creatures. Now he had not only met, but potentially offended one, and if he was being honest, Jongin had not expected to wake up at all. He'd given into exhaustion, silently praying that sleep would take him before the other being could, granting him at least that much in life.

Yet there he was, awake and aching maybe, but no more than he usually did.

When he blinked against the dim light, not daring to rub the sleep out of his eyes, the hybrid didn't even acknowledge him. It looked much like a human male, so Jongin mentally decided to refer to the hybrid as a _he_ for now. And _he_ only kept wiping at the dirt on Jongin's face.  
Jongin just lay there, too scared to move as he allowed the hybrid to do as he pleased. _Maybe he liked his prey better when clean,_ a small voice in his head whispered.

Jongin may have a rare gift, but that meant nothing in the vicinity of a hybrid. Humans sometimes developed a single gift, but hybrids were... barely human at all. They could do things that humans could neither comprehend nor hope to imitate. They could end a human's life with the snap of a finger, with the flick of a furry ear. Or so he’d been told. When Jongin had been younger, his father would sometimes tell him that disobedient kids were sold as pets to hybrids, forever bound to serve a vengeful creature waiting for a single misstep justifying them to dispose of their prey.

Hybrids were the most dangerous beings one could stumble across in this hellhole of a town, but the being currently leaning back to examine him didn't look like it wanted to eat him.

 _Well,_ Jongin thought, _he wouldn't want to eat himself either._ Not unless he was _very_ desperate.

The hybrid seemed to share his thoughts as he scrunched up his face in mild distaste.

His self-conscious attempt at pressing even further into the corner was ignored as the hybrid dipped his own hand into the water, only to bury it in Jongin's hair.

Despite its relatively short length, the fingers got stuck almost immediately. With the utmost patience, the hybrid kept dipping his fingers into the water and running them through his hair, ignoring the way Jongin occasionally flinched at the tug. He wasn't violent though. Merely persistent. By the time he could card his hand through Jongin's now damp hair, Jongin was wide awake, and the fear had made room for confusion. He didn't dare speak up however, scared of breaking the spell. The hybrid kept carding his fingers through Jongin's hair, quite like he was petting him.

Jongin found that he didn't mind as much as he thought he would.

"You have an impressive gift."

His voice was inhuman, too - warm, smooth and soothing.

"Thank you," Jongin rasped out, unsure what to say.

"It's not something you had any power over receiving," the hybrid replied after a long break, and Jongin bit his already cut lips, distracting himself with the sting.

"I know," he trailed off, feeling ashamed. Ashamed that even for a moment, he'd been greedy for praise.

The hybrid was still absently petting his hair though, fixating him with dark, clear eyes that seemed to be able to read every thought right off Jongin's face.

"But the fact that it grew so strong is all thanks to your perseverance."

Jongin stared at him in wonder. He'd received compliments for his powers, but they were never aimed at _him._

In response to his curious stare, the hybrid ruffled his hair one last time before getting to his feet.

"You should rest up until you're ready to leave."

Jongin swallowed, and as he got to his feet this time, his legs felt shaky for a different reason entirely.

The offer was tempting, it really was - this place was warm and cozy, and lacked any potential dangers aside from the hybrid himself. But he shouldn't linger here any longer. He'd imposed long enough, had enjoyed enough mercy as it was, and he should leave before the creature's patience ran out.

"I'm ready to leave," he assured him, bowing his head deeply. "I'm much better already. Thank you."

With that, he walked towards the only visible door. He turned to hastily bow once more before slinking up a narrow staircase, eventually finding himself on the cold, dark streets again.

It may have been something about the crisp evening air, but he felt strangely light.  
  


* * *

Surprisingly enough, the kid returned a few days later.

He looked better groomed, though the pain veiling his eyes was already growing more opaque again. Kyungsoo half-expected the kid to plead him to soothe it again - to run his hands over his head and take away more of his fear, guilt, and sadness.

The boy asked for no such thing, however.

"I wanted to thank you properly," he said, nervously shuffling in the entrance to his lair, with a box in his cut up hands.

"I don't charge children," Kyungsoo replied, admittedly perplexed by the action.

"Oh," the boy muttered, looking equally flustered and nervous. "Well. It's a present, then."

With that, he carefully set the little tin box to the ground.

Kyungsoo didn't sigh. That would insinuate that something about this child was a bother.

"You can come in, you know?" was all he said.

He watched him hesitate, watched him nervously pad closer, the box still outstretched as if he was making an offering to a god. A rather moody one, at that.

"Sit," Kyungsoo said.

The boy sank to his knees before him, cradling the box in his lap, looking up at him as if awaiting judgement. Without a flicker of hesitation, he'd sat on the ground instead of the sofa.

 _That_ was what pulled a small sigh out of him.

"They trained you good, didn't they?" he asked lowly. It was a statement more so than a question.

The boy blinked, gaze lowering as he seemed to think of an appropriate response.

"I have it better than many," he mumbled eventually.

That was undoubtedly true, considering that he was sitting here with him.

Powers developed and grew with the hurt they were fed, after all, and it wouldn't be the first time for humans to become greedy, pushing a child until it broke. This specific talent, however, was too valuable to be carelessly smashed. No, it was a talent like a raw diamond, one that with patience and steady, relentless pressure, would shine like no other.

The kid didn't lie, and the fact that he _almost_ believed in what he was saying already told Kyungsoo all he needed to know. It spoke louder than his wide eyes and the bruises peeking out from under his sleeves.

Wordlessly, he reached out until his palm connected with the boy's forehead, fingers resting on the slightly matte curls.

There was indeed a lot to feed with this one- trepidation, exhaustion, pain, and loneliness enough to sate him were he actually hungry. Beneath them, however, he could also sense a flicker of child-like, naive wonder. Tantalizing as it was, Kyungsoo let it be, only helping himself to a lung full of whatever the boy had plenty of.

Seeing that small flame of wonder openly dance in his strangely turquoise eyes felt almost like a reward.

That evening, the boy stopped in the doorway once more, thanked him once more. But he didn't run away immediately this time, instead focusing on him with timid, but bright eyes.

"What's your name?"

* * *

Ever since Jongin could remember, people had warned him to stay away from hybrids. They called them wretched creatures that were closer to ghosts and demons than humans, creatures who could end a life with nothing more than a snap of their fingers.

There weren't exactly many of them but Jongin's _tasks_ often brought him closer to the shadows than he himself would have liked. And like his family did so often, they made sure he was warned, but never bothered to prepare him. He was told to avoid the hybrids, to fear them; certainly not to understand them. But there had to be different types of them, considering how kind Kyungsoo was. He didn't seem to mind his presence, and that was a concept in and of itself that was astonishing to Jongin. It was so strange, and not exactly flattering, but... comforting.

Jongin could simply show up at his doorstep and Kyungsoo would allow him to sit with him.

It took him a while to build up the courage to do so, but Kyungsoo _didn't mind him,_ and that was a powerful pull that gradually won over the old and tried mantras nestled into his head. 

Of course it occurred to him that the other might merely keep him around on a whim, tricking him with nice words and gestures. He thought about that a lot. Constantly, really.

But as he sat on the comfortable carpets, cheek mushed into the sofa while Kyungsoo was running his hands through his hair, he decided that it was alright. If the cat one day decided to eat this mouse, it would be alright. This was worth it.

Jongin had always frantically clung to his life and he'd been in countless situations demanding just that of him. But whenever he was sneaking out to meet Kyungsoo, he felt so, so unafraid. Calm, really.

It also occurred to him on one of those evenings that he didn't know many words to describe this state, this lack of constant alert; he only knew that whenever Kyungsoo was touching him, he took away the heavy feeling in his stomach, the pressure in his head, and the frazzled nerves. And what was left behind, Jongin wasn't sure how to label.  
Peace, probably.

* * *

"Kyungsoo?"

He hummed noncommittally, neither taking his eyes off the page nor ceasing to rub the other's shoulder. In the past weeks, Jongin had become bolder, moving from the ground to the sofa. These days, he enjoyed sitting nestled into his side close enough to be able to read along - a fact he'd adamantly tried to hide at first. He apparently hadn’t been reading along for a while though.

"I'm already 19," the boy admitted, voice small enough to suggest otherwise.

"So?"

Jongin wriggled a little in his grasp, but not with the intention of getting away from him.

"You said you don't charge children. Back then. But I'm already 19," he elaborated, sounding somewhat dejected. This situation as a whole wasn't entirely new - having Jongin speak up after long periods of silence to reveal the negative narrative that he'd been brewing up was just one of his long-trained quirks.

And Kyungsoo would indulge it just like he indulged any other of his anxious habits.

"You're still a child," was all he said.

"Why?"

This, however, was relatively new. Him daring to ask questions, that is.

It stole the faintest smile from him. A child indeed.

"As long as there's no blood on your hands, you'll remain a child."

He could feel Jongin balling his hands to a fist under the shared blanket.

He could hear him think, too.

But his owners were no fools. Taking another human's life with ones' own hands far exceeded petty crimes. It was the last border, the last seal to be ripped off, and while it likely unlocked every droplet of power slumbering within a heart, it was just as likely to crack it in the process. Pushing for it was stupid and greedy, really, and this child was too valuble to be cracked carelessly. Jongin had probably had plenty of blood on his hands before, but none of which he'd spilled himself.

Jongin took his time analyzing this new-found information. Throughout the evening, a total of three clients came to see him, and Jongin observed their exchange very closely, eyes just barely peeking out from the blanket thrown over him. Every single one of the clients noticed the presence of a child, and every single one thought of him as a victim to a cat, but none of them commented on it. In fact, none of them even looked too closely, probably in fear of what might be looking back at them. Jongin was just Jongin though, watching with wide, unblinking eyes as people offered Kyungsoo obscene amounts of money in exchange for him taking something off their hands.  
He took guilt and shame from someone who couldn't handle them nearly as well as he thought he would. He took the memories of a murderer and soothed the corroding mind of a desperate man whose hands could command fire. At the end of the day, only very few gifted people would show up at his doorstep. Maybe they didn't know of his existence, or maybe they simply never made it into adulthood.

Jongin never made a single sound while Kyungsoo was catering to his clients, always obediently still until the door was closed and they were alone again. This time, the silence prevailed even longer, right up until Kyungsoo carelessly tossed a stack of paper money into a box.

"Why do you charge them so much?"

"Hm?"

"You don't seem to need much money," Jongin explained, nails restlessly dragging over the backrest as he watched Kyungsoo move the box back under one of the veils covering the wall.

"I don't," Kyungsoo agreed, sinking back into his reading spot, where Jongin molded into his side all-too naturally. "I take it because _they_ need it. It's an appropriate price for the service I provide."

"But they give you food, right? So why...?" Jongin trailed off carefully, needlessly afraid of pushing too far.

"And I could feed off absolutely anyone and anything."

Jongin thought about it, a confused frown marring his face.

"But if they're bad people - and you charged them, so they are - isn't it likely that they'll do even more... _bad things_ to get the money?"

With a benevolent huff, Kyungsoo drew him closer, allowing Jongin to nuzzle into his neck.

"That's what makes you a child still. You're kind at heart, and you want to live for others. I only live for myself, and I refuse to make presents for those undeserving of them."

Jongin's next words were muffled and small - small enough to just barely reach his sensitive ears.

"But you're also kind."

Kyungsoo closed his eyes with a hum, enjoying the warmth and purity emanating off the lost child.

 _You're charging him like you're charging everyone else,_ a cynical voice whispered inside his head. The larger, more reasonable part of him knew that just because he was being paid didn't mean he had charged anything. Such was simply the nature of children.

That evening, Jongin was bold enough to curiously run his fingertips over Kyungsoo's ears. He let him.

* * *

Jongin felt like he was leading a double life. And he loved it.

His days used to be monochromatic enough to blend together, painted in colors that were slowly, but surely, turning bloodier. He'd get up whenever his family deemed him ready to, and he'd fulfill the tasks they had for him, get rewarded accordingly, and then he'd go back to his tiny room, indulging in as much rest as he could (if he'd been successful, that is, and there was no punishment awaiting him.)

He'd deliver ominous packages to groups of people lurking in run-down buildings, and he'd act as his family's eyes on other days, watching people do horrific things, but never did anyone ask of him to take a life. And for that he was grateful.

He didn't want to end a life, even less so because it would mean to be scorned by Kyungsoo.

Because these days, there was more to his routine than trying to avoid punishments.

These days, he spent every free minute at Kyungsoo's place. It meant less time to rest and sleep overall, but every minute of rest at Kyungsoo's side was much more fulfilling than half an hour spent lying on his mattress, staring at the peeling ceiling.

In fact, stepping inside his barely lit, cozy home - through the door or thin air, if he was feeling mischievous - was like stepping into a dream.

Kyungsoo never seemed actively happy to see him, but somehow, Jongin preferred it that way. Kyungsoo never got angry at him, he'd run his hands through his hair and allow him to pet his ears and read his books with him, and it was the best time he could ever remember having. And even though he had seen the extent of his powers plenty of times, Jongin's fear had completely vanished as the weeks had gone by. He wasn't afraid of Kyungsoo hurting him despite him being very much capable of doing so. It wasn't at all like his relationship with the people he called family, but it felt so _right_ regardless.

Yes, Jongin was eternally grateful for this new part of his daily routine - especially since his family was starting to tighten the reins on him. The tasks became more dangerous, the punishments less predictable, and Jongin was struggling to keep up. He knew from Kyungsoo that it wasn't really discipline but pain that determined the reach of his powers, so all he could do was endure and wait for his powers to grow accordingly.

It was alright though. Kyungsoo regularly soothed the headache and dispersed some of the stress, so he was ready to endure more.

He would endure it all, and for the first time in his life, it wasn't his family he wanted to impress. No, he wanted to impress Kyungsoo. Prove to him how strong he was.

And surely, Kyungsoo would be proud of him.

* * *

Kyungsoo was worried.

That was a rather unusual state of mind for him. He'd seen countless children grow up and crack, a lot of them gifted, some of them able to move on, holding the shards together. A lot of those who didn't make it.

This time, though, he was more affected than he'd like to admit.

Jongin was smiling brightly when he appeared in his room. He was smiling a lot recently.

"Hello Kyungsoo," he beamed, all but skipping over to him. "I brought you more of the tea you like."

Kyungsoo nodded towards the low table and Jongin placed the box down before sinking into the couch with a blissful sigh.

"Did you see that? Not even a little sick," he proclaimed then, grinning proudly. "I can't even remember the last time shifting made me want to throw up."

He stretched himself with another happy sigh, revealing sprinkles of dried blood peeking out from under his shirt. Kyungsoo could demand him to clean up. Could ask whether it was his own blood again.

After a short period of consideration, however, he decided to say nothing at all, instead cupping the back of Jongin's head - carefully avoiding to touch the blue marks around his neck - and pulling him to his own chest. Jongin let it happen without a hitch, instantly relaxing under his touch. He had never asked Kyungsoo for this, but he did it every single time, anyway. And every single day, the sour mess inside the child's head seemed to grow more grotesque.

He breathed into the matte curls that reeked of smoke and other substances, closed his eyes, and began to pull at the complex, tangled ball of emotions.

Part of him knew that it was a pointless effort, but it was all he knew to do.

* * *

He was doing great. Better than ever.

He'd never been able to shift so fast, move so far without his body responding negatively. Now he could shift from where he was locked into his bedroom to see Kyungsoo, just like that!

It didn't even hurt or rip open any of the crusted wounds on his back and legs - which was good because Kyungsoo always frowned when he got blood on his blankets.

Admittedly, his family was starting to scare him a bit, sometimes. But Kyungsoo had called him gifted and precious before. They wouldn't kill him. They were just putting on a convincing act to maximize Jongin's talents so he could-

So he could-

Jongin blinked, feeling like the ocean around him was stirring, ripping and tugging and threatening to wash him away.

So he could what? Do what?

He held on tighter to the anchor that was Kyungsoo, wishing to see him as soon as possible, when the door to his room opened to reveal the man publically known as his father.

They'd never looked alike, Jongin dimly thought to himself as he followed him down the hallway, barely listening to a rapidfire of instructions. There was no need to worry, really. He was strong enough by now to master anything.

And apparently, his father agreed with that, because his next words dripped over Jongin like liquid ice.

* * *

There was a weird sense of nausea rumbling in his stomach.

Kyungsoo frowned. He had consumed nothing but negative feelings in a long time now, and while he could hardly overeat, his body was politely requesting for some variety. At least that would be the most obvious explanation. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling, however, that something was off. About Jongin.

Was it possible that they were connected? He _had_ consumed a lot of the child's sorrows, but this was definitely new to him.

Whatever it was, it made it so Kyungsoo didn't even flinch when Jongin appeared out of thin air in a corner of his room. This time, however, there was no playful grin on his lips and instead of a graceful landing, he all but stumbled and collapsed on the ground.

Alarmed, Kyungsoo knelt by his side, trying to gain an overview on the other's state.

He was shaking like a leaf and there was a concerning amount of blood dripping down his yellow jacket, staining the carpet. He’d never worn yellow before. That sight alone was telling. Today, they hadn't sent him to slink around the shadows. They'd sent him to stand out - because whether or not he was seen didn't matter this time.

"-soo," a weak voice rasped out, choking on tears. He started hacking, halfway torn between trying to cough into his bloody hand and hanging onto Kyungsoo for dear life.

"Kyungsoo-"

He shushed him, already running one hand through his hair while the other helped propping him up. Jongin only ended up half-lying in his lap, but it was enough for Kyungsoo to get a feeling for his state.

"I didn't do it," Jongin rambled, sniffling and stammering as clawed himself into Kyungsoo's thighs. "I didn't do it even though I should have done it- they told me he was a murderer, anyway, but I don't wanna be one- please, please believe me, I didn't do it-"

"I know you didn't," Kyungsoo said quietly, glad that Jongin couldn't see the way he grimaced over feeling just how messy the other's mind was. And this time, there was no way to deny it any longer. No matter how gently he'd try to cut back on the ulcers of fear, there was no way he could stop this spiral. There was only so much a human heart could take, after all.

The realization was actually painful.

And Jongin, Jongin wasn't just fragile, kind, and strong - he was also smart. Much smarter than people gave him credit for, and probably smarter than even Kyungsoo gave him credit for. Because he knew.

"Please make it stop," Jongin forced out, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't- it's not working. I can't do this anymore."

Kyungsoo stared at the mop of sweaty hair, listened to him hacking and watched him curl in on himself... but he didn't move.

"Please make it all stop," Jongin wheezed out, still not daring to look him in the eye. "I can't pay you but you can have it all, everything you can find. I know it's not much but- I want to stay a child. Please," he ended, voice cracking down into a whisper.

_"Please."_

Kyungsoo swallowed. Took a deep breath and gently cupped Jongin's face.

Immediately, Jongin tried to suppress his sniffles, growing still in his hold.

It had been a while since he'd felt this mix of fear and anticipation, Kyungsoo mused.

"Look at me," he commanded, and reluctantly, Jongin sat up, trying in vain to wipe the tears off his face.

Kyungsoo waited patiently until he was done. In a way, he was stalling time himself.

Then he repeated the earlier motion, cupping his face with both hands to look into his turquoise, watery eyes.

"Humans can't live without emotions," he said quietly, but firmly. "You'll die."

There were more tears welling up at that, but Jongin bit his lip and nodded, anyway.

"I know," he whispered.

"Okay," Kyungsoo replied, his own voice dropping to a whisper as well as he leaned in agonizingly slowly.

He would not enjoy this, but it was the child's wish.

Kyungsoo had always had a soft spot for children, after all.

As he was close enough for their lips to almost touch, he felt hands buried on top of his head, running over his silky ears one last time.

And Kyungsoo tugged him down just enough to place his lips on his forehead instead.

For the first time in many years, he allowed himself to give into his own nature and _take._ At first, it was an assault on the senses, with a wave of fear, pain, and anger almost overwhelming him. He was quickly able to pick out nuances of confusion, yearning, loneliness and shame, but also occasional sprinkles of happiness, too interwoven to possibly be separated from the rest. 

And Kyungsoo took it all. 

He took and took until the onslaught of emotions trickled out, until apathy and resignation left a sweet numbness on his tongue.

And then, when he was sure the life had been drained from the body in his hold, he felt it.

Felt the twitch of fingers in his hair, and the little drop of something that had been slumbering at the very bottom of the other's heart.

And Kyungsoo couldn't bear taking it.

He simply couldn't.

Afraid of even facing the consequences of his actions, he closed his eyes for just a moment longer, sighing under the gentle ministrations.

He was so, so sorry for failing him-

A breathy chuckle ripped him out of his reverie.

"Thank you."

Kyungsoo looked up to meet the eyes of... Jongin.

He could feel the odd void emanating from him, could see that one of his eyes was now sharing his own, pearly white color. Could _feel_ that the being across him wasn't alive - at least not in a human way.

"I'm better now," Jongin whispered, as if Kyungsoo was the one to be approached with caution now. His fingers slowly ceased petting the other's ears upon seeing his stunned expression. There was no immediate shame or distrust to well up though - after all, Kyungsoo had just taken all that from him.

Now Jongin was devoid of emotions - just like him.

 _No,_ Kyungsoo thought to himself, _that wasn't exactly true._

He _had_ left Jongin with something. Something that he could see in his turquoise eye right now.

From now on, he'd need to consume emotions to survive as well.

He would likely never be able to shift through space the way he had.

And he would never be part of human society ever again.

But the smile Jongin shot him as he snuggled closer, all but tackling him into the soft carpet was nothing short of serene.

And Kyungsoo, old, cynical cat Kyungsoo, didn't feel the need to burrow himself under blankets for once, instead allowing himself to sigh into the unnaturally warm embrace of a very special hybrid indeed.

And the nausea from earlier had vanished completely.


End file.
